


You Always Did Look Good In Red

by PrincessKitty



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Blood, Brief mentions of other RT staff, It's my first so be gentle!, Mild Gore, Psychoteeth, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 14:34:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1652144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessKitty/pseuds/PrincessKitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a late night at the Rooster Teeth Studios, and Ryan's been gone an awfully long time...</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Always Did Look Good In Red

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the first fic I've ever been brave enough to publish! I'd love to hear whether you guys liked it, if this goes well I'd like to write more and maybe even start taking prompts!!

Michael pushed his glasses atop his head and rubbed his bleary eyes. He had been trying to edit the latest episode of Rage Quit but FinalCut Pro kept crashing and it was starting to piss him off. After it crashed for the fourth time that hour, he sent a quick text to Lindsay letting her know that he was going to be REALLY late home and not to wait up. He yawned, looking around the empty office. Ryan was also staying late to edit, but had wandered away from his desk a short while ago to get coffee. Putting his glasses back on and glancing at the clock, Michael realised that Ryan had been gone for nearly 30 minutes. He stood up and stretched, listening as his joints popped, before beginning to wander in the direction of the kitchen.

"Ryan, I'm here to wrangle you back to your desk. I can't be the only person doing fucking work this late!" Michael yelled as he walked, his voice and footsteps echoing through the eerily dark building "And I swear if you've fucked off home and left me to turn off all your shit I'm gonna beat your ass!". He rounded the corner of the corridor that led to the kitchen and was surprised to find the lights weren't on. "Ryan?" Michael said, reaching for the light switch "Are you seriously sat in here in the dark?". As the lights flickered on, Michael was greeted with an empty, silent kitchen. A lone cup of coffee sat on the island, steam still slowly curling upwards, the only indicator that anyone had been in the room. "Ryan, c'mon man. Are you seriously pulling this bullshit? Come out from whatever fucking hidey-hole you're in 'cause I'm too tired for this shit." Michael sighed, moving around the counter to make himself a coffee. His foot slipped slightly, and as he threw out an arm to catch himself on the counter edge, he looked down and saw that the floor was slick with something deep red. Gasping in slight surprise, the strong coppery scent of blood hit the back of his throat and he gagged. "What the…Fucking hell…" he choked, before he felt blunt pain at the back of his head and his entire world went black.

Coming to slowly, Michael groaned and looked groggily around. Wherever he was, it was really damned dark, and it stank of the rich, metallic scent of blood that seemed to have followed him from the kitchen. Looking down, Michael noted with some surprise that he was tied to a chair with some rough rope, his wrists and ankles securely fastened to the uncomfortable wooden chair he was sat upon. Suddenly, Michael's retinas were assaulted as an unseen figure flicked a switch to flood the area Michael was sat in with bright and unforgiving light. Immediately, he closed his eyes and briefly registered that he still had his glasses on. As he opened his eyes, allowing them to slowly adjust to the sudden brightness of the room, he saw that Ryan was across from him, also tied to a chair and completely unconscious. Michael saw with horror that blood coated Ryan's left temple and neck, matting in his hair and causing a dark stain on his t-shirt. As soon as he saw the state Ryan was in, Michael began to struggle against his bonds; if he could get free he could get to his cell phone and call Lindsay, or the cops, or somebody and then he and Ryan could get the hell out of… the Podcast set? "What the fuck is going on here?" Michael whispered hoarsely, craning his neck to try and look around fully and realising that he had his back to the set itself. As Michael was twisting in his chair and cursing under his breath at the strength of the rope and the knots they were tied in, Ryan began to come to. Moaning in pain, Ryan's head lolled loosely and his voice cracked as he spoke "M..Michael… What's…..What's happening? Where are we?". Pausing in his attempts at freeing himself, Michael turned his full attention to the now conscious Ryan, who had managed to hold his head up to look directly at him. "Ryan, how's your head, man? It looks pretty bad but I can't see properly from here. I'm gonna try and get loose and get us out of here, ok Ryan? Ryan?" Michael leant forward slightly to try and get Ryan's attention but he was completely focused on whatever was behind Michael. "Ryan… Ryan what're you staring at?" Michael said, as Ryan's eyes went wide and he began to scream.

Michael now began struggling in earnest as Ryan's screams echoed around the large studio. Whatever Ryan could see behind Michael must be pretty bad because the older man turned his head and vomited to the side of the chair he was bound to. The smell of vomit mingled with the smell of blood that still seemed to be stuck at the back of Michael's nose and throat and he retched violently, trying to clear the awful scent that seemed to pervade each breath that he sucked into his lungs. As Ryan lifted his head, pointedly looking away from the scene of horror that was just behind Michael, he noticed someone stood a few feet away. "Hey, hey you! Help us!" Ryan shouted, drawing Michael's attention to the direction Ryan was looking. He noticed the figure stood just within his field of vision, and just as he opened his mouth to shout along with Ryan he heard laughter. Disturbingly familiar laughter. "Ray? Ray is that you?" Ryan said, leaning in his direction, as the laughter rang around the room. Ray walked slowly towards the two bound men, Michael unable to see his friend clearly as he approached. The relieved expression that Ryan had held upon realising that it was indeed Ray melted from his features as he took in Ray's appearance. "Ray… Oh God….." was all Ryan managed to say before Ray reached the pair. "What's up, Rye-bread?" Ray said, his voice low and dangerous. Before Ryan could respond, Ray moved forwards and slashed his arm quickly across Ryan's throat. A burbling sound followed, and as Ray stepped to one side Michael clearly saw a river of blood cascading from a large wound that had suddenly in Ryan's neck. Eyes travelling slowly to Ray, Michael first took in the large knife in his right hand that was drenched in blood. Ryan's blood. Moving his eyes upwards, he noted that Ray was completely covered in blood - but whose was it? Ryan hadn't bled that much so that must mean whatever was on the couch… "Ray…" Michael said, as Ray turned to face him fully. "Ray…What happened man?" Stepping closer to Michael, Ray smiled brightly as he leant right in his face. "Let me show you…"

Ray grabbed Michael's chair and dragged it around so that he could see the fruits of his work. He stepped back lightly, watching Michael's face as he surveyed the scene that was before him on the Podcast set. Michael's eyes grew wide as he saw exactly what it was Ray had done. Sat, or more accurately, placed in their regular spots on the Podcast set were Gus, Gavin, Geoff and Burnie. Well, what was left of some of them anyway. Gus's head was almost entirely caved in and he was missing several fingers, Gavin's torso and legs were separated and placed next to each other on the couch and his mouth was open in a ghastly scream, Geoff had been decapitated and was only recognisable by the tattoos on his arms and Burnie's chest was completely open and all of his internal organs were gone, replaced with Geoff's severed head. Michael's mouth gaped open as he tried to process what he saw. "Ray…Did you? You…You killed them?" he said, his tongue wetting his lips as he made eye contact with Ray. "Yes, Michael. I did." Ray said, idly playing with the knife he still held. Michael was silent, his eyes flicking from the knife to Ray's blood spattered appearance. "What should I do with you, Michael? You're the only person here that I don't completely hate. In fact, I'd go as far to say I actually like you. So what am I to do?" Ray said, throwing his arms wide, a look of mock confusion on his face. "I can't just let you go, but I promise I can make your death quick like Ryan's. Hell, I'll even make you into something artsy like the guys over there" he said, gesturing to the corpses nearby. Michael shifted his gaze from Ray to the Podcast set and began to giggle, quietly at first but steadily getting louder. He threw his head back and began to laugh in earnest, tears beginning to stream down his face from laughing so hard. Ray smirked at him, noting with great pleasure that the sight of his dismembered co-workers had driven him completely mad. As Michael regained some composure, Ray approached him with the knife that was still stained with Ryan's now drying blood. Michael looked Ray dead in the eyes, and as Ray raised the knife aloft he uttered the last thing he would ever say: "Y'know Ray, you always did look great in red". His world ended abruptly as the knife came slicing down and penetrated deep into his chest.

"You're right, Michael…" Ray said, as the blood of his friend sprayed out over his face and torso and joined that of his co-workers "I really do look good in red."


End file.
